Bitterness and Hatred

She had not always been like this. Bitterness and hatred were not feelings that she had ever been accustom to. Never had she felt it before. With her golden curls and delectable charm Cersei Lannister had most people eating out of the palm of her hand.


On her wedding day, for the first time that she could remember, her eyes did not stray towards her beautiful brother standing to the side of the alter and she did not wish that she was with him on her own. And for the first time she was happy where she was. Hers eyes focussed on the tall, dark and handsome man stood at the alter waiting for her. Girls all over Westeros wanted him, but he was hers by oath.


She had no doubt that she stood before him in her dazzling white dress and crimson cloak, he would look then. Modesty had never been Cersei’s strong suit, but there was no way that anyone could argue that she looked anything less of radiant. 


Her hair fell over her shoulders like a golden waterfall in such a way that even the sun would be jealous. And above all, her smile was what compelled people to look at her, and make it impossible to look away. It was a smile that radiated happiness and utter contentment. 


But Robert had not spared a glance her way the whole time. He seemed to find more comfort in the bottom of the wine glass than with his new wife.


Cersei knew why Robert acted so but she did not speak of it. The girl that he wanted was dead. And she was here, eventually she was sure he would come to love her and Lyanna Stark would become nothing but a distant memory.


But she was wrong.


When Robert crawled into their bed on the eve of their wedding, pressing his large drunken self against her, he brushed his lips against her ear and for a second Cersei thought he would whisper some comfort. But no. He whispered a single word.


And that word was enough to make her despise every part of the man she had married. When they had finished their duty, she pulled the furs up to her shoulders and turned away from her new husband, wiping away the tears that had finally spilt over. 


It was later that night that she found comfort in the arms of her brother.


From the months that followed their marriage the word was not mentioned again and Cersei began to hope that Robert had perhaps come to feel something for her. Jaime was at her side constantly, but she did not feel the need to go to him as she had on her wedding night.


But then came news of Roberts infidelity. It was not unusual for men to have mistresses, but Robert made no effort to hide it from her, and openly discussed the fact that he had got the wench pregnant. 


Bitterness began to fester.


Cersei did not need to ask Jaime to do what needed to be done. He already knew. By the next day the wench and her unborn babe were dead. And Cersei felt nothing. 


Cersei continued her life, trying to forget that Robert had strayed and made more of an attempt to engage him.


When she fell pregnant, it was a sign from the Gods that she and Robert were going to be alright, and perhaps when she bore him a son, then he would grow to feel some sort of affection towards her. Desperation told her it was so.


But Robert barely noticed her growing bump, and frequented hunting trips rather than be with her. Jaime was the one who sat by her side when she discussed the baby, and its growth.


A part of her wished it was Jaime’s baby that grew inside of her.


When she lost the baby at just 6 months, Robert did not say a word, but rode off into the woods again, alone. Jaime sat and held her as she cried into his arms, mourning the child that she had hoped would bring her and Robert together.


That night Cersei found that it was Jaime’s soothing hands and words that helped her to sleep, and it was Jaime’s warm embrace that she woke up to.


But despite the Kings lack of attention towards her, or the loss of their child Cersei found herself trying harder than ever to be what he wanted her to be. She attended every court session, and meeting that she were permitted and dined by Roberts side every night.


She spoke of having another child despite how it pained her to talk of it. Her enthusiasm to her queenly duty’s was unrivaled and she cheered the loudest for Robert at every tourney he attended. 


Cersei even found herself agreeing to travel North with the King in order to see his long time friend Eddard Stark and their young child.


In her desperate state to please the King, Cersei did not register what going north meant for Robert.


It was not until she expressed a desire to go riding with her beloved upon the arrival at Winterfell did she realise.


Robert ignored her request and greeted Lord Stark, leaving her with the entourage to go down into some underground tunnel. Cersei remained utterly perplexed at the behaviour. It was not until that evening, when everyone else had retired and Robert was drinking with Lord Stark did Cersei venture down into the underground vault to see what it was that had demanded Roberts immediate interest. 


Angry and fury built up in her when she saw what the vault held. The girl was not even alive and still he loved her more than Cersei. She was living and breathing but he would rather see the face of a dead woman than his own wife. Tears rolled furiously down her face as she stood immobile in front of the stone carving. 


Hatred curled in her blood, boiling through her veins until she could not longer breath. She dropped to her knees, at the mercy of the statue. Bitterness eating away at her insides. Her heart ached for the one she could never have. She had fooled herself for so long, convinced that he would someday wake up and see her properly. 


But his vision was tainted with this black haired beauty. Robert did not want Cersei. Lyanna Stark was the only thing he had ever wanted.


She had not heard anyone enter until she felt the hand on her shoulder. She did not jump, recognizing the touch.


“Rise sister. She can only do harm that you allow her to.” Her brother said, grasping her arm and pulling her to her feet. Cersei furiously wiped away the tears from her face and turned her back on the dead Lyanna Stark.


“He will never love me” She said, her voice broken. Jaime shook his head.


“But I will.” 

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